Hours passed as they crossed into Eastern Europe. The clouds grew darker, and the Quinjet's sensors dimmed automatically. The engines shifted to silent mode as the aircraft descended through a thick layer of fog. When they broke through it, the jagged peaks of the Sokovian mountains appeared below. The land looked harsh, cold, and unfriendly.
The pilot's voice came through the comms. "We're approaching the drop zone. No radar contact. You're clear."
Steve and Liam stood up and checked their gear hidden under plain clothes, one last time. The Quinjet dropped lower, moving into a narrow valley filled with dense fog. Tall rock formations surrounded the area on all sides, hiding it from anyone above. There were no roads, no houses, no signs of life. Only stone, snow, and silence.
"Perfect place for a secret base," Liam said quietly.
The Quinjet landed smoothly between two cliffs. The landing gear touched the ground with barely any noise, stirring only a thin layer of mist.
The pilot turned from the cockpit. "I'll keep the jet powered down and cloaked. I'll stay nearby and monitor your comms. Good luck, gentlemen."
Steve nodded once. "We'll need it."
The ramp lowered with a soft hiss, letting in a rush of cold air. Liam and Steve stepped out into the pale, gray light of Sokovia.
Liam looked at Steve as soon as they stepped out of the Quinjet. For a moment, he almost did not recognize him. Steve's whole appearance had changed, even his voice earlier. It was because of the photostatic mask he wore. It was the same tech Natasha used during the Winter Soldier movie.
Liam wore one too, changing his face into that of a civilian Sokovian man with a strong build. Steve looked like a tall, broad local dressed in worn winter clothes. Both of them blended in perfectly.
Steve had also left his shield behind in the Quinjet. He tucked it behind a crate before landing. Bringing it would have been stupid. They did not need Captain America walking around Sokovia during an undercover mission.
Liam looked around. Even though he himself had never been to this place, it gave him a completely familiar feeling. Afterall the previous owner of his body has been stationed here for quite a while.
As Liam took into his surroundings, Steve checked the map Fury gave him. "Natasha should be waiting for us in the capital. She said an old bus stop near the manufacturing district. Not many people go there at this time."
"Perfect," Liam said as he pulled his hood up. "Let's not keep the spy princess waiting."
The walk through the valley brought them to a rocky clearing. A hidden dirt road connected the area to the outskirts of Novi Grad. They followed it until they reached the city limits.
Novi Grad looked so broken. Years of political problems had worn it down. Cracked roads, abandoned buildings, and ruined shops lined the streets. Small groups of locals moved quietly, carrying bags or tools, doing their best to survive. The air smelled like cheap burning fuel and old smoke.
Power lines sagged between tilted poles. Posters about unemployment, shortages, and warnings covered the walls. The whole city felt tired and forgotten.
"This place has seen better days," Liam said under his breath. He remembered how, even during his posting here, the city seemed to decay a little more with each passing day.
Steve nodded. "Stay focused. Natasha should be close."
They walked through the streets, keeping their heads low. Their disguises helped them blend in. After a while, they reached the bus stop Natasha mentioned. It was rusted, with broken glass panels and peeling paint. The buildings nearby looked even worse. A half-collapsed factory stood across the road, and empty shops lined the block.
A woman sat alone on the metal bench. She wore a gray coat and a plain headscarf, looking like any tired Sokovian civilian. When they came closer, she moved her hand slightly, showing a silver ring. It was the signal.
Steve stopped a short distance away. "Natasha."
She lifted her eyes. Her voice was low. "You took your time."
Liam smiled. "Blame the damn weather."
Natasha stood up smoothly. She scanned their disguises with a quick glance. "Good. You look local enough. Follow me. Not here."
Without waiting, she turned and walked down the sidewalk. Steve and Liam followed behind her in silence.
Natasha led them down a side street and into a narrow courtyard. The front door of an old apartment block was unlocked. She slipped inside and motioned for them to follow.
The apartment looked completely normal. A tiny kitchen, a worn-out couch, a table with mismatched chairs. A single lamp buzzed faintly on a shelf. Natasha took off her headscarf and coat, folding them neatly. Then she removed her photostatic mask. She looked like herself again, but tired… really tired.
"Safehouse," she said simply. "Not fancy, but it's ours for now." She set two mugs of coffee on the table and pointed to the chairs. "Sit. I'll brief you."
Liam stayed quiet and listened. He already knew most of what she would say as the previous owner of his body was stationed here for quite a few years. But since Steve was not aware, she had to explain him.
Natasha spoke in short, clear sentences. "This city is fractured. No strong central power. The official government is weak. Local officials survive on bribes and favors. That creates space for other groups to grow."
She tapped the table. "There are a few main factions. First, the old security forces and police. They try to keep order, but they are underfunded and corrupt at the top. They split loyalties. Some officers work for whoever pays best. Some still try to do the right thing.
She took a sip from her cup and continued,
"Second, the local militias. Most of them are former soldiers and young men who have nothing else left. They say they protect neighborhoods… and some of them actually do. A few groups look after kids, guard shelters, and help civilians get through checkpoints safely. They even organize protests and small rallies when things get too bad."
Her expression shifted slightly.
"But others… others sell protection and run their own checkpoints. It depends on who's leading the group. Some are trying to keep people alive, and some are just violent, unstable, and desperate."
"Third, crime networks. Smugglers and black market dealers run most of the trade. They traffic in weapons, parts, and whatever people will buy. They move goods across borders and into the hands of whoever can pay. They are efficient and ruthless.
"Fourth, foreign contractors and private security. Companies come in with money and muscle. They rebuild some, take resources, and sometimes work as fronts for deeper interests. They bring equipment and tech, and they watch who has access to power.
"Fifth, NGOs and aid groups. They try to help civilians. They are stretched thin and often blocked by local politics. They matter to the people, but not to the power players.
"And lastly, underground cells. Small groups, loyal to older causes or new leaders. They operate in shadows. Some want to restore order. Others sell their services. HYDRA would fit here if they were active. They might hide inside all the mess."
She paused and rubbed her forehead. "All of these groups overlap. People change sides for food, for shelter, for safety. That is why a secret facility can hide here. You can bury it under rubble, behind a factory, or under a charity warehouse. No one will notice until it moves."
Steve absorbed the details. He asked sharp questions about who controlled key routes and where caches might be hidden. Natasha answered with local names, checkpoints, and weak points. Liam added a few practical notes from his memories.
Natasha's face grew harder. "I have been listening to comms and watching shipments for days. I have contacts feeding me small things. Nothing that points to a HYDRA base yet. They are careful. Whoever moved the sceptre covered their tracks well."
She placed the maps on the table. "We start with these areas," Natasha said. "Scrapyards. The water plant. Warehouses near the rail line. HYDRA likes infrastructure that can hide—"
Liam lifted a hand. "Hold on."
Natasha stopped mid-sentence. Steve glanced between them.
Liam leaned forward. "We don't need to do all this. Your plan will take forever. Weeks. Maybe months. And while we're checking every broken building in the city, HYDRA might notice the noise and move the sceptre somewhere else."
Natasha narrowed her eyes a little. "We don't have many options, Liam. This city is a maze."
"We do have options," Liam said firmly. "Because I know this place better than you and Steve combined. I was stationed here for years. And more importantly… there used to be a HYDRA base here."
Steve straightened in his chair. His tone was sharp. "Where?"
Liam pointed to a spot on the map, slightly south of the industrial zone. "Here. Under the old thermal plant. The one that was shut down after the foundation started cracking. But the entrance wasn't inside the plant. HYDRA hid it in a storm drain five blocks away. They disguised it as municipal plumbing."
Natasha leaned in, studying the location. Her voice dropped. "I checked that area. I found nothing."
Liam replied. "That base was built to be invisible. No heat signatures. No unusual power readings. The generators were buried so deep underground they didn't register on anything. And everything above ground looked like normal, rotten Sokovian infrastructure."
Steve looked at him carefully. "Then shouldn't our target be that place?"
Liam's voice lowered. "Unfortunately no. HYDRA would have scrapped it after I betrayed them. They don't leave places behind if some traitor knows the layout."
Natasha let out a long, tired breath as he circled back to the main topic. "So the new facility we're looking for… it won't be anywhere near the zones I marked."
"It won't be," Liam said in agreement.
Natasha stared at him silently for a moment. "Alright," she said slowly. "If that's true…then what do you think we should do, Liam?"
Steve looked at Liam too, calm but serious, waiting for an answer.
***
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